Question: Will there ever be a day on this earth, in this lifetime, where yet another layer of healing doesn’t unravel me?
Elizabeth, I am so sorry for your pain. If we are honest, we know that suffering and sorrow are inevitable parts of life. Loved ones die. Dreams crumble. We lose things that were once important to us. The happily-ever-after life we dreamed of is often a far cry from the reality we live.
But how we respond to the loss and change determines what happens to our hearts. It also determines if we live–really live–the life that Christ has called us to. Perhaps loss is a necessary part of our journey; you’re so right, healing does unravel us. I have come to believe that suffering is a necessary ingredient in my life, whether I have all the answers or not, because it always points me to Christ.
Brokenness must have its way in each of our lives in order to move us from death to life. Every spring, tree leaves come to life as tiny new shoots; they grow and flourish, showing us signs of life and hope, only to die each fall. Life gives way to death, but from death something wondrous occurs. The leaves produce a majestic display of bold and resplendent color. They become most vibrant as they are dying.
Jesus makes a similar analogy in the gospel of John when he says, “I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds” (John 12:24). This is the power of rebirth through the process of death and dying. Jesus, the immortal seed of the Father, chose to take on mortality. His glory, hidden and buried beneath the earth, like the seed, breaks forth from the dust of death to display a bold and resplendent life.
Shall we expect the Master to work any differently in our own lives?
While most of us won’t be fighting for a place in the suffering line, I hope there is comfort in knowing we can learn to move through this journey of brokenness to find healing and wholeness. We need only to change our perspective on loss and suffering. If we are willing to allow them to become our tutors, they can and will produce in us that same bold and resplendent life that Jesus is calling us to. If we have the eyes to see, we will come to know and understand that brokenness purifies our vision and chisels away all that keeps us from fully knowing the heart of God.
If you and I want to fully recover from the losses of life, we must catch a vision for the greater role that we were designed to play, and a bigger purpose beyond ourselves and our losses. In other words, we must slowly begin to see with eternal eyes that which is so difficult to see when loss first assaults our hearts: the story isn’t finished yet. This is a journey, not a race.*
May the Lord bless you dear one and send his healing presence to comfort your wounded heart.
{Have a question you would like Rita to answer? Leave it in the comments below, and you may be selected for her next post. By the way, parts of this post were shared from Rita’s new book Shattered that releases in September — be sure to watch for it!}
